From: Mike Sander <344LWKC@CMUVM.CSV.CMICH.EDU>
Date: Monday, 19 Oct 1992 12:54:58 EDT
Newsgroups: alt.pub.dragons-inn
Subject: [DQ] Friends in low places (Part 1)

After their trip through the portal, Lancos looked around confusedly.
'Raelf's instrument had seemed to show that the party was going to end up
in a cave similar to the one they had been, but instead they appeared to
"land" in a mutated version of...

>"The Worldgate?" Lancos looked around, curiously.

>"Yeah, it's the closest nexus where Travel magic can focus."

Well, that helped explain why they were HERE and not the cave, but not how
'here' looked. The Worldgate was in ruins, and --stepping outside-- so was
the rest of the town. 'Raelf took the scene largely in stride, as if he'd
expected it or something. But Lancos could not ignore the perverse copy of
Generica that was laid before him, a place with no signs of life, except up
ahead at the location where the Dragon's Inn would be in the REAL Generica.
The group headed towards it.

Along the way, they met a servant --one a bit less attack-minded than
Krastin or the necromancer had been-- who placed the Dark Master's "brand" on
them. Lancos cursed, finding the services offered generally UNhelpful, and
hoping for as much subtlety as possible. That would be NONE, if the Dark
Master knew where they were at all times. The DQers continued the trek...

>There, the plaza, where Dragon Way and the Avenue came together a brightly
>lit place, its enormous windows showing the interior clearly, all booths
>with pleasant, shining formica tables, set with plastic flowers and each
>booth was occupied by some stalwart, heroic figure.

There was a sign by the door, worn and cracked. But the words "Black
Dragon's Inn" were distinguishable, along with a picture of a menacing
Black Dragon, made more meanacing by the various cracks intwined in the
representation.

They entered the Inn, and were seated. The waitress then tried her best
to slink away into the crowd, when ShockWave regained her attention as
only a Giant could --with his booming voic. The waitress sighed, then
asked, "What CAN'T I get you?", expressing the phrase lightly, as if it
had been too often issued.

"What do you have?",Valgar replied, partially afraid to ask.

Waitress: "The Black Dragon's Inn has a variety of food, featuring the
styles of Dorm Cafeteria food and Camp food. To drink there is carbonated
water, a drink known as Mountain Dew --served warm, of course--, and
advanced Tea substitute."

'Raelf blanched. "We'll let you know.". After the waitress left, he
continued. "How's our ration supplies, guys? What she was talking about
makes them sound like filet mignon!"

"Should be all right, rations haven't been touched yet.", ShockWave said,
beginning to gather everything together. Then he saw that the food was
spoling all-too-fast, likely another by-product of theis plane. He cursed.

Meanwhile, from his vantage point Lancos could see that they had attracted
the attention of some of the Inn's patrons. One of them was even making his
way over. The man was slightly over five feet tall, slim, and deadly-looking.
He garnished a sword on each side --a fellow ambidextrous person, obviously--
and grey leather armor, along with a grey-on-grey patterned cloak. The man
sat down next to 'Raelf, and acted as though he knew him.

'Raelf gave a hesitant look, then realized he had to say something.
"What are you doing here, Miro?"

"Just looking for a handout."

"How'd you get here?"

"Fell through a portal. Here I am."

"I don't like this."

"Me too. Deal with it, 'Dude'. Besides, you owe me."

"Yeah, I suppose I do. Guys, this is Miro Elledian, an Elf of my long and
usually unfortunate acquaintance, who has no business whatsoever being here.
Miro, this is Lancos Erredan, and this is ShockWave the DiamondSword, acting
in row corporis SunStorm FireFall, and the bearded fellow is Valgar whose
other names are his own, and then William, do you have other names?"

"Yes, of course, William Bolivar Smith," the sculptor replied, surprised.
"Although of course I could change that to um... never mind."

"Pleased to meet you, Mr. Smith, I'm 'Raelf Berensen," the surfer replied,
shaking William's hand with a gentle grip.

William replied, "And you, too, Mr. Berensen.". There was a brief silence,
until William looked down and saw that the hand-shaking was unnecessarily
continued. He withdrew his hand and mumbled an apology.

Lancos was slightly confused at the exchange, but remained silent. And
looking at Miro again, he could now tell the Elven lineage, his eyes
--large and slanted, although colored differently, with one blue ringed
with silver and the other green-- and uniform cast to his skin helping to
give it away. More unusual was his coppery red hair that was almost the
same shade as his own, and a flickering black opal bound to to his brow,
the light reflecting constantly changing colors on it.

Miro seemed taken a bit back by William. "Good to meet you all, and can
I cudge some food and drink from you?"

Lancos: "Sure, if you don't mind that the food's degrading rapidly.
Although why do you need us?"

"Food's food, Erredan. It's better than the alternative." Miro said as he
gestured towards a table populated by pasty people with sharp canines.
"And I don't have papers," the Elf replied in low tones, "I'm an illegal
alien."

Lancos was intrigued. They weren't supposed to be here either, but Miro had
somehow remained unnoticed. Someone like that would be considered a huge
prize. "Say, can we interest you in joining us in this 'task' of ours?"

=========================================================================
Michael Sander 344lwkc@cmuvm.csv.cmich.edu
AKA Lancos Erredan